


Lost Things

by caricaturecat



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Frisk (Undertale) Is a Sweetheart, Frisk is a hoarder, Gen, Lost things, Mute Frisk (Undertale), Nonbinary Frisk (Undertale), Papyrus (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Papyrus is a good bro, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 14:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19477732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caricaturecat/pseuds/caricaturecat
Summary: Papyrus has always loved collecting lost things. Tags added if this is continued. Please comment if you want this continued.





	Lost Things

**Author's Note:**

> Um... so you gotta let me know if I should continue this? Because I'm not sure atm. Anyways, here's a little headcanon about Papyrus crammed into another story.

Papyrus had always had a sentimental connection to lost things. Perhaps it was something due to being trapped Underground for years and years, reset after reset of rummaging through human trash for treasures.

Maybe it was the time spent with Frisk now that they all were on the Surface. A similar interest that led to weekly drives in his convertible. Every stray piece of furniture would find its way into the backseat of the car and then back to one of their houses to be placed into the increasingly eclectic collection. The old green couch in Papyrus’ living room was joined by a banged up coffee table and a stained plaid armchair with stuffing peeking out.

Maybe it was the joy of finding a home for these lost things. At first the others were frustrated with the weekly additions to their homes, but soon it became a tradition. Alphys and Undyne would drive to the skeletons’ house and call first dibs on anything that struck their fancy. Soon others joined in until almost all of monster kind was involved in this strange weekly exchange.

One time the pair had found a stray dog on the side of the road with a broken leg. He had snarled as they had gotten out of the car but Frisk managed to calm him enough to let Papyrus heal the injured leg. The dog was now living with the Dreemurrs, happy to be close to Frisk.

Sometimes Papyrus wasn’t really feeling it. On those times, Frisk would use their phone to tell him pun after pun as he drove, slowly driving him closer to madness (or if he was going to be honest, happiness). Sometimes they would pull off on the side of the road and Papyrus would listen as Frisk cried out their frustrations about the bullies at school, and how they felt that the entire world rested on their shoulders. Papyrus never voiced his own worries, afraid of bringing this small child down. But somehow Frisk would know, and they would hold his hand and tell him that time would keep moving forward.

Then they would continue their adventures, looking for the next lost thing.

Maybe it was because they knew what it was like to be lost. To be cast aside. Sometimes they would find things beyond repair, a couch so mildewy that it caused Papyrus to sneeze, a dead animal. And they would get back into the car, pointedly silent, trying not to dwell on the feelings that it brought up. It worked sometimes. Other times Papyrus would pull out the blanket he kept under the seat and turn on some happy music and they would sit in comfortable silence until they felt okay again.

Regardless of the pain, it was a safe space and they looked forward to the time, eager to find something new every time. Eager to find another lost thing.

Perhaps it was only logical that they would find something else on the next trip. Frisk was the first to notice the figure, causing Papyrus to fling his arm out in front of Frisk’s small body as he swerved to the side of the nearly empty road. Frisk giggled at the skeleton’s driving until they got out of the car, switching to bouncing nervously in anticipation. It was dark by now, the winter weather causing the days to grow shorter and shorter. The rain bounced off of Papyrus’ skull and soaked Frisk but neither of them cared, it was always part of the adventure.

Frisk pulled a flashlight from one of their many pockets and offered it to their tall companion. A strange silence fell over them as they slowly approached the still figure. When Papyrus caught the figure clearly in the beam of light, Frisk let out a small whimper before running to the figure’s side. Papyrus, on the other hand, felt his grip loosen before the flashlight clattered noisily on the ground, illuminating the dark forest and the mud before settling on the figure and Frisk. That. That was a human.


End file.
